


Someone's Gonna Be Cutting The Thread

by SocialDegenerate



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Afterlife, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Canonical Character Death, Facials, Ficlet Collection, Kissing, M/M, Masochism, Pining, Quickies, Sharing a Bed, Temperature Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:03:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 22
Words: 20,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6175984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialDegenerate/pseuds/SocialDegenerate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of mostly unrelated MikoRei tumblr ficlets, some angsty, some not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ghost of the Past

**Author's Note:**

> All of these were prompt requests from [this list](http://socialdegenerate.tumblr.com/post/140495195081/send-me-two-characters-or-more-and-a-prompt-and). More will be added as I keep getting and filling requests.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #8: "Your smile is not as bright as it used to be."

“Hey Captain.”

Jolting in his seat, Munakata looked up from from the papers on his desk, squinted at the figure in front of him, pushed his glasses up and rubbed at his eyes.

Sure, he hadn't slept properly- or at all- in about three days. Sure, he'd been working himself into the ground as of late. Sure, he was still carrying a lot of guilt about that day in the snow, when he'd shoved his sabre through an undefended chest.

But Suoh Mikoto usually only bothered him when he was asleep, not while he was at his desk and _mostly_ awake.

“You are _not_ here,” Munakata muttered as he went back to his work, deciding that it was time to go home once he was done with the current pile of paperwork on his desk.

“Aren't I?” That painfully familiar voice said, a large hand planting itself on the pile of papers, right in front of Munakata's line of vision. “Sure seems like I'm here.”

Shaking his head tightly, Munakata picked up his documents without any effort. It was obvious that he was hallucinating due to lack of sleep, and he wasn't going to indulge the creations of his brain any longer.

He'd killed Mikoto. There was no way for the man to be standing in front of his desk.

“Ignore me as much as you want,” the hallucination said in a bored tone, “I've got all day. I've got all _eternity_ , if you really wanna play it that way.”

Munakata didn't react, focusing harder on the work in front of him. A minute ticked by in silence, and then two; and then a body plopped down on the desk right next to his chair, the presence not affecting anything already placed on the surface.

Giving up on avoiding the apparent destruction of his brain, Munakata pushed his chair back and looked at the hallucination that was sitting upright on the edge of his desk. Mikoto looked just like he had in life: long limbs, toned muscles, messy red hair and uncomfortably handsome features.

Clearing his throat, Munakata shoved that last thought aside. He supposed it was a plus that this Mikoto didn't have a gaping, bloody hole shoved through his chest, the way he usually did in Munakata's dreams.

“You look like shit,” the not-really-there Mikoto said with a laugh. “You were always meant to be the pretty one.”

“You _aren't_ real,” Munakata announced triumphantly, forgetting that he wasn't meant to be indulging his hallucinations. “Suoh would never have said something like that to me.”

“Doesn't mean I never said it.” The bored tone was back and Mikoto had apparently procured a cigarette from somewhere, spinning it between his fingers. “Izumo'll tell ya.”

“... _Don't_ ,” Munakata warned, telling himself that his eyes were only hurting because of his lack of sleep. “These past weeks have been hard enough without... _this_.”

“Why d'you think I'm here?” Mikoto said with a scoff, kicking his leg out into the side of Munakata's chair without any real impact. “You gotta get over this.”

“Pardon me?” Munakata asked haughtily, raising an eyebrow. He didn't take kindly to being lectured, not even by figments of his own imagination.

Shrugging, Mikoto leant back on his hands, tipping his head back and staring at the ceiling as he let out a yawn. “Your smile isn't as bright as it used to be, I don't like it and everyone knows you're faking it. I think your little alphabet minions are planning an intervention or some shit.”

“I don't believe I ever had a reason to smile around _you_ , Suoh. How would you know the difference?”

“You'd be surprised what I know,” Mikoto drawled, sitting up properly and pinning Munakata with his sharp amber eyes. Suppressing a shiver, Munakata forced himself to glare back, not willing to give even an inch to Mikoto- real or not.

With a quick smirk, Mikoto broke the stand-off and slouched back onto his hands again. “You didn't murder me.”

“I-”

“It was a mercy killing.”

Worried that he couldn't speak without his voice wobbling, Munakata chose to stay silent.

“Shouldn't've forced you into it, but it wasn't like I had a choice,” Mikoto eventually continued, still staring up at the ceiling. “I was gonna die either way, but you saved everyone at that damn school.”

This time when he lowered his face, Mikoto had a faint smile on his face, little more than a twist of his lips as he regarded Munakata. “You did good, Reisi.”

“Do _not-_ mmph!”

For the first time, Munakata felt a physical presence as Mikoto slipped off the desk and swooped forward, brushing his lips against Munakata's. It didn't feel quite like a real kiss but it was _something,_ and Munakata fought back the urge to press his fingers to his lips as Mikoto stood back up and laughed.

“Never thought I'd get away with that. Anyway, you should start smiling properly again. Looks better on you.”

“ _Not real_ ,” Munakata muttered as he dropped his gaze to the floor, taking off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes again.

“Whatever ya reckon,” Mikoto scoffed, Munakata feeling the faintest pressure on the top of his lowered head. “But I gotta go. I'll see you later, Reisi.”

By the time Munakata put his glasses back on and looked up, he was alone in his office, resolutely trying to ignore what definitely _wasn't_ the lingering smell of cigarette smoke.


	2. Ghosts of the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #34: "It's not like I missed you or anything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A direct sequel to the previous ficlet.

It was bright and sunny the day that Munakata Reisi died.

Even the power of a King wasn't enough to keep terminal illness at bay forever, and he knew that he had to go sooner or later. Mostly he was just hopeful that the new King would be chosen quickly, not leaving his clansmen without a leader for too long.

So he closed his eyes, surrounded by any and all of his family and clansmen who wanted to be there, and opened them again to find himself... _somewhere_.

It was a city, nondescript in the same way that every city looked alike in one way or another, not the same as where he'd come from but familiar all the same. The most striking thing was that it was _empty_. Rolling his shoulders and stretching cramped arms, Munakata noticed that there was no stiffness to his left, a long-standing side effect of a particularly nasty strike he'd taken the brunt of five or so years ago.

A quick glance in a nearby window showed Munakata that the last few decades had completely melted away from his face and body, his few strands of grey hair back to their previous darkness and his skin as smooth as it had ever been.

If he had to guess, he'd say that he was back to his early twenties, a time he'd always looked back on with a certain degree of fondness. Although being a King had protected him from the usual woes of aging, he hadn't managed to completely avoid every ravage of time, and it was nice to feel energetic and _young_ again.

Noticing a figure in the distance, the first he'd seen since he'd opened his eyes again, Munakata was about to start for them to ask what was happening when a hand suddenly grasped his upper arm.

“Gotcha,” a familiar deep voice said in triumph, Munakata quickly realising that the hand around his arm was far warmer than it should have been.

He turned to see Suoh Mikoto smirking faintly at him, his unchanged appearance bringing forward memories that Munakata had thought were long gone. Decades had passed since that day in his office, the one that he'd written off as the delusion of a sleep-deprived mind, but Mikoto looked exactly the same as he had then.

And if Munakata considered his current situation, it seemed likely that Mikoto _hadn't_ just been a hallucination back then.

“Wasn't sure where you'd end up,” Mikoto continued, his free hand digging a cigarette out of his pocket, “But apparently you wanted to be where I was.”

“Highly unlikely,” Munakata said dismissively, watching curiously as Mikoto procured an actual lighter to light his cigarette. They had no powers then, even if Mikoto's body heat was still far higher than it should have been; but then again, maybe the man had just always been that way, King or not.

“Nah,” Mikoto said after a long exhale, “You go where you want here. I ended up where Totsuka was, and you came here to me.”

Munakata was silent, only realising that Mikoto was still holding onto him when the hand disappeared and an elbow tapped him in the ribs. “Oi, this is where you go _it's not like I missed you or anything_ like the ice princess you are.”

“Be quiet,” Munakata muttered, hand snatching out to steal the cigarette from Mikoto's fingers so that he could take a drag himself. His slightly increased smoking habit certainly hadn't been a way to surround himself with a familiar smell after Mikoto had died; he had a stressful job, that was his excuse and he was planning on standing by it.

Mikoto didn't try and reclaim the cigarette, just kept his eyes trained on Munakata's lips as he slipped the cigarette between them.

Munakata wasn't stupid. He knew what Mikoto was thinking.

He _also_ remembered what had happened the last time he saw the Red King, especially now that he was certain that it had been real.

Dropping the finished cigarette on the ground and grinding it out with his shoe, Munakata stepped forward and, burying his hands in the nostalgic fur collar of Mikoto's jacket, dragged him forward into a kiss. Unlike last time, there was an actual physical presence against him, and Munakata tasted smoke and heat and _perfection_.

Mikoto was certainly not passive, his hands gripping Munakata's narrow hips to pull his body in closer as he let Munakata lick into his mouth. His hands felt like they were burning into Munakata's skin even through his clothes, and Munakata shuddered.

Even as his life had gone on and he'd _moved_ on, Suoh Mikoto had always been the one great unknown for him. He'd never been able to say for sure whether it would have ever worked out for them, but it had always been at the back of his mind, the faintest hint of regret picking at his brain.

But as he pulled back from Mikoto, took a breath and then dived straight back in, Munakata figured that it couldn't hurt to _try_. If this was a second chance, he was going to take it.

“...I did miss you,” Munakata muttered the next time he had a chance, watching the way that Mikoto's lips twisted into a pleased smirk.

“Oh, I know.”

“...Be quiet.”


	3. Close Calls With Brick Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #42: "I don't know if I should kiss you or slap you."

Munakata couldn't help but let out a little sigh as he walked directly through the middle of the battlefield, barely bothering to dodge around stray blows as he headed for his objective. He could tell that HOMRA weren't fighting to their full potential, more just causing mischief for the sake of it, but the presence of an ominously decayed sword in the sky meant that he was forced to leave everything else behind to deal with a certain Red King.

Well, _most_ of HOMRA weren't fighting seriously, Munakata thought as he stepped to the side to avoid being slammed into by the tangle of limbs that was his own third-in-command and Yata Misaki. He wouldn't have expected anything else from those two, though, regardless of how many times Fushimi was warned about letting his temper get the best of him.

Continuing forward again, Munakata rounded a building to find Mikoto lazily slouching back against it, red aura concentrated around his hand as he casually lit a cigarette with it.

“You made it,” Mikoto murmured after taking a drag, tipping his head back to exhale a cloud of smoke and not bothering to even look at Munakata. “Wasn't sure you would.”

“You know that I'm required to attend any Sword of Damocles sightings, _particularly_ yours.”

Mikoto huffed a humourless laugh, taking one last drag before letting his aura completely incinerate the half-smoked cigarette. Munakata closed his lips around the lecture that was sitting on the end of his tongue, already well aware that even the sight of his sword breaking apart wasn't enough to stop Mikoto from casually overusing his powers.

It was fool's errand to try and change Mikoto's ways. He knew that more than well enough.

“You're all business today, Munakata. Never used to be so stuffy.”

“ _Really_ , Suoh?” Munakata questioned with a raised eyebrow, knowing that Mikoto was teasing him. Sure, in his younger days he'd certainly been more open to some of the Red Kings more... _inappropriate_ ideas, but there was no way he'd ever been anything less than 'stuffy' in most people's eyes.

Pushing himself off from the wall, Mikoto turned towards Munakata and stepped in close to him, close enough that Munakata could feel the unnaturally high body temperature that the Red King possessed.

Sex with Mikoto had always been an uncomfortably sweaty affair, not that Munakata would consider that one of the reasons why they'd stopped. Although from the look that Mikoto was giving him, eyes bright behind lazy eyelids, Munakata was smart enough to know that Mikoto seemed to be angling for a restart.

“Call your men off,” Munakata ordered, not moving an inch even when he could feel the barely-restrained rolling boil of Mikoto's aura. “I have better things to be taking care of if you're only here to bother me.”

Leaning forward, Mikoto's face was suddenly _too_ close to Munakata's own, but he forced himself to stay steady. “I went to all this effort to drag you outta your office, and this is how you act? I don't know if I should kiss you or slap you.”

Smirking, Mikoto let his aura engulf his body, Munakata's sword immediately appearing in the sky next to Mikoto's as his own aura pushed back against the heat.

“Don't do this, Suoh,” Munakata warned, glancing up at the sky and noticing just how bad Mikoto's Sword of Damocles looked when it was directly compared to Munakata's.

“Do what?” Mikoto asked in a bored tone, his aura flaring and expanding around them. The resulting wave sent the clansmen just around the corner scattering, leaving the Kings alone and standing far too close to be anything innocent, their auras bright around their bodies.

“I won't fight you just to watch you waste your power.”

Mikoto scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “We'll see.”

Another flare of aura, and Munakata was forced to take a step away. He could have easily pushed back, but he wasn't going to let Mikoto goad him into a fight that would just shorten his life. Spine straight, head up and shoulders back, Munakata let Mikoto crowd him back into the wall of the building, red aura pulsing like a living flame and blue aura out just enough to stop Munakata from getting burnt.

Mikoto was obviously looking for a reaction, but Munakata wasn't going to help Mikoto kill himself.

He _couldn't_.

“So boring,” Mikoto muttered as he slammed his forearm into the wall next to Munakata, his aura flaring once more before fading away. Munakata made no effort to avoid the kiss that Mikoto immediately laid on him, letting his own aura fade away and welcoming Mikoto's tongue into his mouth. He tasted like cigarettes and _heat,_ so uncomfortably familiar that Munakata felt his own coldness start to melt.

It was unbecoming of him to act so carelessly in a public place, what with his clan literally right around the corner, but the stark realisation of how little time Mikoto had left was weighing heavily on his mind. Gripping the front of Mikoto's jacket, Munakata pulled him closer for a few more moments before flaring his aura out, catching Mikoto off guard as he was forced back and slipping away from him.

“I really do have business to handle,” Munakata said over his shoulder as he began to walk away. “But next time you want to see me, just _call_. I won't allow you to endanger yourself just to gain my attention.”

Praying that Mikoto hadn't managed to leave any physical evidence, Munakata returned to the main fray, which had died down significantly once the pair of swords had left the sky. He was more than willing to let Awashima handle the regrouping, his lips still burning from the heat of Mikoto's kiss, and so he simply stayed silent as HOMRA disappeared into the shadows.

He would find a way to save Mikoto, even if he had to lock the man up and throw away the key.


	4. Walk Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #32: "I'd ask you to stay but I don't like you."

Walking back into his bedroom, wearing just loose pants with a towel draped over his shoulders, Munakata raised an eyebrow as he looked over at Mikoto still lounging in his bed. The Red King looked good naked, with only a sheet just barely covering his cock, but he should have known the drill by now.

“You're still here,” Munakata said dryly, keeping his eyes trained firmly on Mikoto's face. Regardless of whatever else might have been happening, what they had was _casual_. It was quick blow jobs above the bar, it was heated making out after a particularly intense fight, it was leaving once they'd both gotten off.

He should have known better than to invite Mikoto into his bed, knowing as he did how lazy and hard to move the Red King could be. Regardless of how much he'd wanted a proper fuck instead of their usual messing around, he _really_ should have thought this through more.

Pushing himself up on his hands, the sheet slipping lower until Munakata could clearly see Mikoto's patch of red pubic hair, Mikoto yawned widely. “You're kicking me out?”

“Well, I'd ask you to stay but I don't like you,” Munakata said coldly. “The Red King has no place in the Blue King's home.”

“Hey, _you_ asked _me_ ,” Mikoto replied, only moving far enough to dig through his pants for his cigarettes. The motion was enough to dislodge the sheet entirely, and Munakata averted his eyes completely from the vision of Mikoto's totally naked body. How someone so lazy managed to have so many muscles, Munakata wasn't sure, but he wasn't exactly complaining.

“And now I'm asking you to leave.”

“Relax,” Mikoto yawned again, raising the cigarette to his lips but lowering it when Munakata glowered at him. “I should get back anyway, don't need them getting any more farm animals while I'm not looking.”

Deciding not to comment on _that_ particularly interesting incident, Munakata walked out of the bedroom again, hanging the towel back in the bathroom and pausing to look at himself in the mirror. His lips were swollen and his neck and shoulders were covered in red marks, but he looked _sated_.

He looked like someone who had just been thoroughly well fucked by the man who was ostensibly his enemy.

Turning away from his reflection, Munakata moved further into his apartment to snatch a shirt from his drying laundry. It was two in the morning and he just wanted to sleep, but he wouldn't do it with Suoh Mikoto _right there_.

He couldn't let himself do it.

This was _casual_.

Lost in his own thoughts, Munakata jumped when a large hand suddenly grabbed his ass, spinning on his heel to glare at a fully-dressed Mikoto. A thankfully unlit cigarette was dangling from his lips, and Munakata watched it bounce as Mikoto spoke around it.

“My boys are getting restless, so I'll see you tomor-...today, even.”

“Don't you _dare_ -” Munakata began, giving up when Mikoto walked away from him, gesturing a single casual wave over his shoulder as he walked out the front door.

The apartment immediately felt cold and empty, Mikoto's larger-than-life presence instantly missed even as Munakata tried to tell himself that nothing had changed.

So _what_ if he'd invited Mikoto into his private space, when pretty much no one actually knew where he lived.

So _what_ if his hand went to his neck, fingers dancing lightly over the marks that were left there.

So _what_ if his annoyance at knowing about a HOMRA attack was evened out by the knowledge that Mikoto would be there.

This was casual.

It would stay that way.


	5. Force Your Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #4: "We're designed to be disposable."

Munakata knew that he wouldn't be able to imprison Mikoto forever.

The man had surrendered too easily for him to not have some sort of exit plan, and the Scepter 4 cells were for Strains, not Kings. Even if he had to raze the whole building to the ground, Mikoto would get out when he wanted to.

It hadn't been long since he had let the wall give Mikoto one hell of a wakeup call and then spoken to Awashima, but Munakata was restless in his office, and he found himself itching to go back down to the cells. He could have gone down to see if any of his clansmen were around, or he could have made a start on the new puzzles he'd just been given, but he felt like things were just too unfinished with the Red King.

They had a long history, and if Mikoto was determined to literally self-destruct then Munakata was going to say his piece. At least he had a truly captive audience, unlike when Mikoto could just walk away from him at will.

There was enough going on around their headquarters that no one bothered to question why Munakata was going back to the cells, which worked to his advantage. A serious side-effect of having so many people living in the same place was that gossip travelled quickly, and Munakata knew that his clansmen were already speculating about his marital status.

The last thing he needed was to have his past with the Red King exposed and add fuel to the fire...although at the very least, if someone did happen to discover his _preferences_ , there would be no more talk about illegitimate children should someone else choose to leave their Strain baby at the gates.

Striding down the echoing corridor to Mikoto's cell, Munakata was surprised to see the man sitting upright, staring blankly at the dingy cell walls. There was a darkness to his expression that Munakata hadn't seen before, but it slowly melted away when Munakata cleared his throat and let himself into the cell.

Still, Mikoto didn't seem to feel the need to look up from the wall, even when Munakata lowered himself to perch on the end of the rock-hard nightmare that passed for a bed. Violence and lectures hadn't worked, but he'd known Mikoto since before either of them had become Kings, and they'd share almost everything that two people could share at one point or another.

Letting him escape would be akin to sending him to the gallows, and Munakata wasn't going to allow that to happen without taking one more shot, regardless of how blasé he had presented himself as to his subordinates.

“I still don't understand,” Munakata finally said, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. “You have everything. HOMRA is like a family. Those brats _adore_ you, although god only knows why. Even if you relinquish your power they'll still hang off your every word, and yet you would rather die pointlessly and take everyone around you out as well. You can't expect me to believe that you want to die that badly.”

“Everything has an expiry date,” Mikoto muttered, still staring blankly at the wall and seeming utterly disinterested in the conversation. “They'll get a new King. They'll be fine.”

“What about the Strain?”Munakata pressed, knowing that he was heading into dangerous territory but not really caring. For the first time since he'd returned to the cell, Mikoto's eyes flared to life, barely restrained anger seeping into his expression at the mention of the girl who was like a daughter or a younger sister to him. “She seems rather attached to you.”

Scoffing bitterly, Mikoto side-eyed Munakata for a moment before returning his attention to the wall. “Anna knows better than anyone that we're designed to be disposable. A family dies, you find another. A king gets taken out, another one takes his place. It ain't rocket science.”

“You're a _fool_ ,” Munakata seethed as he shoved himself back onto his feet, glaring down at Mikoto. “If you want to repeat the Kagutsu Crater, be my guest. I won't waste my time like this any further.”

He'd tried not to get dragged into Mikoto's temper, he really had. But the Red King had always brought out the worst in him, and Munakata couldn't just calmly sit by as the man lazily strolled towards his death.

Turning away from Mikoto, he really should have been anticipating the hard shove to his back, sending him against the wall with Mikoto's overly hot body pressed along the length of his own. It would have been easy enough for Munakata to call forward his aura and send Mikoto as far back as he needed, but he'd finally gotten a _reaction_.

No one could see them, so he decided to let things play out as they would.

“What am I supposed to do, huh?” Mikoto snarled into Munakata's ear, the awkward shape of his shackles pressing into Munakata's back. “I won't run from this. They'll be fine without me.”

“They'll all be arrested within a week,” Munakata shot back. Mikoto's leg had shoved its way between his own, but Munakata wasn't ready to push the Red King away just yet.

“Don't act like you care about what happens to HOMRA.” There was the faint smell of burning wood, and Munakata knew that it was time to push his advantage. He hadn't been aiming to rile Mikoto up so much that he rampaged his way out of the building, but it seemed like that was where they were heading if he didn't do something soon.

Pulling up as much strength as he could without calling for his power, Munakata took advantage of the cuffs tilting Mikoto's balance to violently twist his body, knocking the man back a few steps and quickly changing their positions. With Mikoto's back against the wall, Munakata didn't press his body as close to Mikoto's as they had previously been, but it was a near thing.

“I don't care about HOMRA,” Munakata said truthfully, his advantageous position almost immediately causing his tone to return to its usual civility. “I care about _you_.”

And that really was the crux of the problem, wasn't it.

Taking Mikoto's temporary speechlessness as his cue to leave before he could say anything else that stupid, Munakata stepped back, straightened his jacket and walked out of the cell with his head held high.

Locking the door again behind him, Munakata glanced over at where Mikoto was still standing against the wall, his hands clenching and unclenching in their shackles.

“I know you'll break out sooner or later. I would appreciate it if you don't kill any of my clansmen when you do.”

Mikoto looked up sharply and opened his mouth as if to say something in return, but Munakata didn't bother sticking around to hear it. There were certain procedures that needed to be put in place when a King passed away, and he figured that he might as well put some time into preparing what he could in advance.

Suoh Mikoto was never going to change his path, no matter what Munakata did or said.

He really wondered what he saw in that hot-headed maniac.


	6. HOM(e)RA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #14: "You're supposed to talk me out of this."

It was just after midday when Mikoto finally made his way down into the bar. Yawning widely, he scratched at his stomach and looked around, eyes scanning the room in suspicion.

Luckily it seemed like none of his clansmen had decided to pick up any strays, human or otherwise, and for once the bar seemed to be relatively quiet. Flopping down on one of the spare couches, Mikoto lifted a lazy hand to his clan.

“Yo.”

A camera was almost immediately in his face, Totsuka smiling from behind it as he filmed his leader.

“Ah, the King finally appears,” Totsuka narrated happily. “What will he do today, I wonder?”

“A nap sounds good,” Mikoto grunted as he shifted a little further into the soft couch cushions, making sure to leave room for Anna if she wanted to join him.

“You just got up,” Misaki snorted, his feet restlessly tapping against the floor. “Did your boytoy keep ya up all night again?”

The camera immediately swung around to Misaki before Mikoto could grab it, glaring at his vanguard for not minding his own damn business. Whatever he and Munakata were doing was an open secret, but a secret nonetheless.

Although that was more because of Munakata's bitching about _rules_ and _decorum_ than anything else.

And on top of that, he hadn't seen the Blue King in _weeks_ . He hadn't even bothered attending the last few riots that HOMRA had started, obviously not believing that Mikoto himself was going to do any real damage. Which he _wasn't_ , but that was beside the point.

“Don't you people have something better to be doing?” Mikoto muttered, closing his eyes and folding his hands behind his head. “Go poke a Strain with a stick or set a trash can on fire, give those blue assholes something to do.”

“ _King_ ,” Totsuka reprimanded gently, a tone that Mikoto wouldn't tolerate from too many people. Cracking open an eye to see that damned camera in his face again, Mikoto frowned directly into the lens.

“Scary,” Totsuka laughed, finally pointing the camera down to the floor. It was only then that Anna stepped out from behind him, climbing up onto the spare bit of couch that Mikoto had left for her. Making sure that he wasn't going to accidentally kick her or push her off the couch, Mikoto glared at his nearby clansmen once more for good measure, and then almost immediately fell asleep again.

When he woke up, it was still light out but the only people left in the bar were himself and Izumo, the latter standing behind the bar and cleaning glasses in preparation for opening. Even if the bar was largely a glorified Red Clan hideout, it was still technically a place of business, open to the general public.

Even Anna and Totsuka were gone, which although rare wasn't entirely unheard of, especially if they'd gone somewhere together. They were the _least_ likely of HOMRA to get into trouble, either of their own making or not, so he wasn't going to waste energy worrying about them. As long as they hadn't decided to break into Scepter 4 headquarters to see that damned horse again, of course.

Forcing himself to sit upright, Mikoto watched as Izumo noticed him and stopped polishing, putting down the glass and the cloth so that he could lean forward on the bar. “Oh, you're up. Hungry?”

“Nah,” Mikoto replied, running a hand through his hair and patting down his pockets for his cigarettes. _Damn_ , he'd forgotten that he'd run out. “Gonna go for a walk.”

Looking up over the top of his glasses, Izumo smirked. “Off to see the Blue King?”

He hadn't been planning on it, actually, but Mikoto didn't think that sounded like too bad of an idea. It had been too long, and if he just so happened to be in the vicinity of a Scepter 4 incident then, well, who could say that it wasn't just a coincidence?

Munakata would bitch and moan like always, of course, but that was half the fun. One would chase, the other would pull away, and then they'd play it all over again in reverse. It kept things interesting.

“You're supposed to talk me out of this, aren't you?” Mikoto asked anyway, pushing himself upright with a groan. If the look Izumo was giving him was any indication, he didn't exactly believe that any amount of talking would stop Mikoto from doing whatever he wanted.

“Use protection,” Izumo called, his calm tone masking the mockery that Mikoto knew was there. Flipping off the bartender, Mikoto grabbed his jacket and walked out of the building, making a mental note to grab cigarettes before he went hunting for promising Strain incidents.

(He had condoms in his wallet anyway.)

((He knew that Izumo knew that, too.))


	7. Practice Makes Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #15: "That was a perfect example of how not to do things."

The first time they had sex after the Blue King was crowned, Mikoto got blasted off the bed by Munakata's aura the moment that Munakata came.

He really should have been expecting it, considering that he'd set a mattress or two on fire in his time, but Mikoto figured that being balls-deep in that tight ass was a good enough excuse for his momentary lapse of judgement.

“Okay,” Mikoto huffed as he peeled himself off the wall, “That was a perfect example of how _not_ to do things.”

He hadn't been expecting Munakata to be _apologetic_ as such, but he frowned when the Blue King just sat up and laughed.

“ _Oi_ ,” Mikoto groused, rubbing his shoulder where it had connected with the wall- thankfully without going _through_ it. “You gotta learn to control that.”

At least no one else was upstairs right then and there, meaning that none of HOMRA were going to try and find out what was making all the noise. Then again, it wasn't like anyone except Izumo would care about random bangs and crashes, and he was more concerned about the state of his building than Mikoto's health and safety.

“Sorry,” Munakata said, very obviously not meaning it. His flippant attitude had Mikoto scowling as he pushed himself upright, stalking over to the bed and straddling Munakata's thighs. Shoving a hand between their naked bodies, Mikoto smirked as he palmed Munakata's cock, coaxing it back to full hardness.

He still hadn't come himself, but that was a secondary goal at that particular moment.

Dropping back against the mattress, Munakata groaned as his cock twitched in Mikoto's hand, blood rushing back down and his hips just slightly starting to follow Mikoto's movements.

When he was satisfied that Munakata was hard enough, Mikoto stilled his hand and looked up into Munakata's flushed face, giving him a smile that was all teeth and danger before lowering his face to Munakata's cock. “Try not to kill me this time.”

Munakata considered himself a smart man, but he apparently wasn't smart enough to fear those teeth being anywhere near his dick, the slight flash of _danger_ and _forbidden_ just making him harder for the Red King.

It was foolish and stupid and _perfect_.

Although not the first time that Munakata had ever had his dick in Mikoto's mouth, he couldn't help but shudder when that borderline unbearable heat hit his sensitive skin. He'd learned to love it over time, and no one else could ever feel quite the same, but the first touch was always a shock to the system.

Fully aware of how he was making Munakata feel, Mikoto let the hard cock slip out of his mouth, grabbing the base with one hand and tracing his tongue in one long line from the root to the head. Munakata was already struggling not to squirm too much underneath him, and Mikoto smirked before sucking gently on the damp head.

Letting go with an obnoxiously exaggerated sound, Mikoto went back to stroking Munakata's cock with his hand, his own saliva slicking the way as he shot Munakata a teasing look. “Still under control?”

“Don't start,” Munakata warned, his hand tangling in red hair and tugging maybe a _little_ harder than necessary. Deciding to actually take the hint for once, Mikoto swallowed Munakata back down again and listened to the way that the Blue King moaned.

He had to admit that it was damn hot, and his own ignored cock was screaming for attention that he wasn't read to give it just yet. Instead, he tapped Munakata's hip with his hand, wordlessly trying to get the other man to take some action.

Although he wasn't usually one to let someone else take control of him, Mikoto was perfectly happy to let Munakata fuck his face if it meant that he didn't have to do anything. He'd already been on top once, so it was someone else's turn to expend all of their energy.

Thankfully Munakata got the picture and thrust his hips up, one hand still holding Mikoto's head in place by his hair. There was no slow start, Mikoto breathing heavily through his nose as Munakata picked up the pace almost immediately, but he didn't care.

Despite all of his blustering and threats, Munakata would never push too far. He just wasn't that kind of person underneath it all.

...It probably helped that Mikoto could burn his dick off if he really wanted to, and Munakata knew that.

Suppressing a laugh at those thoughts so that he didn't start gagging, Mikoto flicked his tongue against the hard cock thrusting in and out of his mouth and brought up a hand to palm Munakata's balls. The Blue King's hips stuttered at that before coming back faster than ever, and Mikoto knew that he was getting close to coming.

Mikoto was more prepared this time for the flare-up of Munakata's power as he tightened his grip on Mikoto's hair and held him firmly in place, his own power keeping the force of Munakata's at bay as his face was pressed right against Munakata's body. Always a fast learner, Munakata managed to rein his power back in even while Mikoto was still swallowing everything that he had to give, his grip on Mikoto's hair finally relaxing.

Pulling away once Munakata had gone boneless against the mattress, Mikoto sat back upright and flicked his tongue out at the small trail of come that had escaped his lips, his throat feeling used and raw.

“Better,” he conceded in a husky, ragged voice that very obviously lit a new fire in Munakata's eyes, “But you still need more practice.”

Letting Munakata flip them over so that Mikoto was flat on his back, the Red King was more than happy to fold his hands behind his head and relax, mostly just glad that his own painfully hard cock was _finally_ going to get some more attention.

He'd practice with Munakata as much as the man wanted, if only to get at that ass again.


	8. New Sensations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #16: "If you want, we could go together?"

Although Munakata had been informed that he wasn't required to attend every Strain retrieval that Scepter 4 were sent to do, he had decided to ride along to a few anyway. He supposed it was best if he got a handle over what exactly it was that Scepter 4 did, considering that he had suddenly been boosted to the head of the organisation.  
  
As someone who despised floundering in situations where he could have excelled if only given a short time to study theories and routines and procedures, Munakata privately thought that he had been thrown into his position as head of Scepter 4 a little too quickly, but he couldn't exactly blame them. The Blue throne had been empty for a decade, it wasn't surprising that they wanted their new King to take his position as quickly as possible.  
  
Watching as his clansmen loaded away the latest Strain, Munakata's spine stiffened when he felt a slight tingling awareness at the edge of his consciousness. He'd been thrown under a deluge of new sensations since the Dresden Slate had chosen him, but he knew the exact reason for this particular feeling.  
  
There was another King nearby.  
  
Trying not to draw the attention of his clan, Munakata cast his gaze around the blocked-off street. It wasn't altogether hard to imagine that a King could have gotten around Scepter 4's civilian blockades, but Munakata added the incident to his mental list of things to review with his new clan. They needed to do better, be better.  
  
Eventually he noticed what seemed to be a trail of cigarette smoke pluming out from an alley towards the edge of the exclusion zone, and everything was suddenly as clear as day.  
  
The lingering problem that he'd been avoiding since becoming a King had apparently come and found him instead, and with a quick glance to make sure that no one was paying attention to him Munakata made his way into the alleyway.  
  
As he suspected, the unmistakeable silhouette of Suoh Mikoto was slouching easily in the alley, head tipped back to expose the long line of his throat as he exhaled smoke into the sky. The sight was enough to have Munakata remembering all the times he'd sunk his teeth into that skin, and he shook his head as if that would be enough to dispel the thoughts.  
  
Things were different now. It had been one thing for an unaffiliated civilian to fuck around with a King, but having two Kings together was completely out of the equation- particularly when the two in question were the Red and Blue Kings.  
  
Munakata was fairly certain that older members of Scepter 4 would never forgive the Red Clan for their old leader's Damocles Down, the event that lead directly to the previous Blue King's death. Ten years without a King was more than long enough to let old grudges fester.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Munakata demanded, hoping that his tone of voice was accurately portraying his disapproval. Mikoto just lazily lolled his head to the side, tired eyes looking Munakata up and down.   
  
“Morning walk. Nice, uh,” Mikoto paused to gesture to his own neck and smirk, “Thing.”  
  
Refusing to feel self conscious in the perfectly tailored uniform of the Scepter 4 captain, Munakata stood tall and stared neutrally at Mikoto. The slight heel to his boots combined with Mikoto's perpetually poor posture meant that Munakata was looking down at the Red King, a position he couldn't say that he hated.  
  
“Yes, well, Scepter 4 is a distinguished organisation, unlike...HOMRA.” Letting the final word drip with disdain, Munakata raised an eyebrow when Mikoto just let out a single deep laugh.  
  
“I heard you'd gotten a King job. Shoulda known your stuck-up ass would fit in well with those Blue idiots.”  
  
Munakata frowned. “I'm not discussing this with you, Suoh. You need to leave this area.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah,” Mikoto said dismissively, dropping his cigarette and grinding it out with his foot. “Should be getting back to the bar anyway...If you want, we could go together?”  
  
Flashing a predatory smile, Mikoto's tired eyes suddenly came to life, a look of promise that Munakata had seen many, many times over the years. Feeling his resolve start to wobble, Munakata cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes, forcing his body back under control.  
  
“It's over, Suoh. We're not doing this any more.”  
  
Mikoto just laughed again, immediately putting Munakata on his guard. “You've been a King for what, a couple days?”  
  
Not deeming it necessary to answer, Munakata just glared.  
  
“The early months are the hardest,” Mikoto continued, his voice dropping down to a deep purr. “So much power, right there under your skin...You feel like you're drunk, and then like you can't stop moving, and then you just want release. And it helps. Stops you from feeling like you might go crazy.”  
  
Another quick smirk and Mikoto pushed himself upright and away from the wall, any height difference between them now only due to Munakata's boots.   
  
Munakata shifted back when Mikoto stepped towards him, his new awareness enough for him to truly feel the extent of the Red King's power for the first time.   
  
It was intoxicating.  
  
“You know where to find me,” Mikoto drawled with a lazy smile, turning his back on Munakata and walking away as easily as if he hadn't just left himself completely open to another King.  
  
“I'll be waiting.”


	9. Something, Something, Wine, Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #1: "Are you drunk?"

Munakata probably shouldn't have ignored his instinct that something was off, the little sensation in the back of his mind that had started acting up as he'd sat alone in his office.

But regardless of what he should or should not have done, he waved it off as nothing and kept going on his paperwork, reading through the last of the reports that Fushimi had handed him.

They'd become a lot more readable since Fushimi had been promoted, but that didn't mean that Munakata didn't have to still go over and sign off on each one. Accountability was a big part of staying in the government's favour, and he wanted everything to be on the level.

However it was still strenuously boring work, and Munakata was feeling fried when he finally got to retire to his private quarters. Thankfully he was far enough away from the dormitory to not be bothered by the antics of his clansmen, and all he wanted to do was sleep.

If he'd been more awake, if he'd been paying the _slightest_ bit of attention to his surroundings and the signals that his brain was screaming at him, Munakata might have had some forewarning about what he was going to walk in on. As it was, though, he wandered into his apartment without the slightest bit of self-awareness, slipping out of his coat and boots and leaving them by the front door.

By the time he made it to his bedroom his cravat was hanging undone and his shirt was mostly unbuttoned, his usually impeccably groomed appearance falling by the wayside in favour of his own exhaustion.

It was only upon walking through his bedroom door that Munakata finally noticed all of the signals that his brain had been trying to send him, _and_ their cause.

There was a snoring, half-naked Red King asleep on top of his bed, limbs flailed out everywhere and his clothes scattered around the room. Munakata's double-take would have been comical to watch had the room's other occupant actually been awake, but he _really_ wasn't in the mood to deal with this.

Slamming his fist into Mikoto's bare stomach- a little too 'back alley brawl', maybe, but he was bone-tired- Munakata glared as Mikoto jerked upright and awake.

“ _Explain yourself_ ,” Munakata snarled, crossing his arms over his chest and watching impatiently as Mikoto blinked, yawned and rubbed at the sore spot on his stomach.

“Wha'?” Mikoto slurred, listing to the side and only just managing to shoot his arm out to catch himself. “Too loud...”

“Are you _drunk_?” Munakata demanded as the stench of alcohol and cigarettes reached his nose, fist clenching as he considered giving Mikoto another whack. “How did you even get in here?”

“I...” Mikoto started, only to pause and frown. “I don't remember.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Munakata groaned as he thought about the amount of damage a drunk fire starter could do to the Scepter 4 headquarters. He was _also_ apparently going to have to have a little chat with the clansmen who were meant to be on duty, considering that Mikoto had apparently made it all the way to Munakata's quarters without being detected.

A sober Mikoto wasn't exactly a stealthy invader, much less a drunk one.

“Why are you _here_ , then? Don't you literally live at the bar?”

“Wasn't at HOMRA,” Mikoto finally said after a long pause, “'Zumo doesn't let me get drunk there.”

“I wonder why,” Munakata muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. He was too tired for this, too tired to put up with the Red King's shit and too tired to wait for one of his little gang to come and get him. Deciding to completely ignore Mikoto's presence, Munakata turned his back on the bed and continued undressing, quickly changing into his pyjamas before Mikoto got any bright ideas.

Normally he would have put up a fuss. He would have thrown the Red King out the window, locked him up in the cells, yelled and ranted and lectured until his voice was gone.

But he was so, so tired, and the Winter chill was beginning to set deep into his bones. He wasn't sure if he had enough energy left in him to displace Mikoto, and he wasn't about to give up his bed for _anybody_.

Munakata just didn't care any more.

Switching off the bedroom light, Munakata shoved Mikoto's limbs away enough to give himself room to climb into his bed, the Red King almost immediately scrabbling after him to settle more properly under the sheets. Thankfully he seemed to be too drunk to question the unprecedented turn of events, and Munakata turned onto his side with his back to Mikoto.

He wasn't particularly surprised when a strong arm looped around his waist and dragged him backwards until he was pressed against hot skin, and Munakata just didn't have it in him to put up even a token complaint. It was cold, Mikoto was just as good as any electric blanket, and Munakata just _really_ wanted to sleep.

“Missed you,” Mikoto mumbled drunkenly, his lips just barely brushing against the back of Munakata’s neck as he promptly fell asleep again.

Munakata could yell and rant and lecture tomorrow.

For the moment, he would let the Red King's inhuman warmth and gentle breathing lull him to sleep.

(It was the best night's sleep he'd had in a long time.)


	10. There's No Such Thing As A Hangover Cure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #20: "It's 8.30, I have a hangover and you're annoying me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A direct sequel to the previous chapter!

Although it wasn't altogether unheard of for Mikoto to wake up with a pounding headache to the sound of yelling, that voice _definitely_ wasn't Izumo and he was pretty sure he hadn't burned HOMRA down around him last night.

Cracking open an eye, Mikoto blearily looked around the room before freezing. He wasn't sure where he was, but he definitely wasn't in his room above the bar, and that loud voice was sounding more and more familiar with every passing moment.

Opening his other eye, Mikoto rolled over to see Munakata standing beside the bed, in full Scepter 4 regalia with one hand on his hip and the other gesturing wildly as he kept ranting. Mikoto couldn't make out the words past the force of his hangover, but Munakata's expression was telling enough.

“Shhh,” Mikoto muttered quietly, causing Munakata to pause mid-sentence and glare with the force of a thousand suns. “It's eight-thirty, I have a hangover and you're annoying me.”

It wasn't the smartest thing that had ever come out of his mouth. He didn't care.

“ _First_ ,” Munakata said, very obviously winding up to start his ranting all over again, “It's eleven. Second, your hangover is your own problem and maybe if you don't want to be sore, you shouldn't drink so much. And third, _I'm_ annoying _you_ ? You broke into my apartment and took over my bed, so _excuse me_ if I'm being irritating to you.”

“How the fuck did I end up here?” Mikoto mumbled, sitting up and pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. He remembered going out to get drunk somewhere where the bartender was too scared of him to cut him off, but there was a whole lot of nothing after that. He had absolutely no frame of reference for how he'd apparently wandered into the middle of the Blue Clan's headquarters.

“I asked you the same thing last night, you said that you didn't remember,” Munakata said, tone dripping with disgust. “I investigated this morning, and do you understand how difficult it was to attempt to explain just why several doors were completely reduced to ash or had their locks melted? Not to mention that the lock on one of my windows is melted away too, meaning that I have to somehow explain _that_ as well before I can get it repaired.”

Okay, that _definitely_ sounded like something that he would do, Mikoto thought. He didn't bother hiding the amused twist of his lips from Munakata, and he really should have known that it would lead to the Blue King tugging the pillow out from under his head and then smacking him over the face with it.

“Really?” Mikoto asked disbelievingly through a mouthful of pillow case, even the soft impact of the pillow enough to set off a new round of hangover-related aches. The pillow slipped away, showing that Munakata was obviously trying to his his embarrassment.

“It was the first thing I saw,” he snapped, eyes darting to the side, and it was quite possibly the most adorable thing that Mikoto had ever seen.

In order to avoid being smacked around the head any more, he decided not to vocalise that thought.

“Whatever,” Mikoto sighed, swinging his legs around until his feet were on the floor. “I'm goin' home.”

He was pretty sure that Munakata's eyes were watching his hand as he idly ran it down his bare chest and scratched at his lower belly, and he briefly considered making a show of it before his head came out with a new round of painful pangs.

Groaning, he closed his eyes, only to be violently jolted out of it when his shirt, jacket and pants were suddenly thrown in his face.

“Fuck off,” Mikoto grumbled, levering himself to his feet with great difficulty and haphazardly throwing his clothes back on. Munakata was still watching his every move with barely-concealed suspicion and maybe a little bit of interest, although the latter might have been wishful thinking.

“ _Out_ ,” Munakata snapped, pointing towards the broken window. “And _don't_ get caught, otherwise they'll put you in detention and I won't bother to get you out.”

“Like they could hold me,” Mikoto scoffed as he shuffled to the window, taking a moment to admire his handiwork on the lock and latch. There was a dried puddle of liquidised metal on the floor, nothing left to anchor the singed window safely to the wall, and it really was just _too_ easy for him to get into places he shouldn't have been.

Swinging one leg out of the window, Mikoto paused when a fuzzy memory suddenly hit him, glancing back to smirk at Munakata.

“Were we _cuddling_ last night?”

Munakata was tellingly silent, and Mikoto barked out a laugh. “We'll have to do that again sometime.”

Mockingly blowing a kiss to Munakata, Mikoto slipped out the window and down to the ground, glancing around for Scepter 4 members before casually sauntering off.

He'd woken up in a lot of different places after a night of heavy drinking, but he had to admit that Munakata Reisi's bed was one of the better ones. He'd have to remember that for next time.


	11. Everything The Light Touches...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #39: "You're an idiot. I've met smarter sandwiches."

It was almost like a hobby for Mikoto.

Scepter 4 were just too easy to rile, and it wasn't like they could do anything to him when they didn't have a King. Sure, they got pissy about the fact that the old Red King was the reason why they _didn't_ have a King, but they were like puppies nipping at his heels. They were never going to do any real damage.

Sitting up on a ledge, leaning back on his hands as he watched his Clan toy with the blue bastards, Mikoto yawned widely. Maybe it was about time to pack it in and go back to the bar for a drink; he deserved it, it had been a long day. He'd gotten up at _ten_ , after all, and it was almost twelve hours later.

Just as he'd slipped off the ledge and onto his feet, though, an ominous shiver ran down his spine. He had his suspicions about what was happening, and Mikoto wasn't all that sure that he wanted to confirm exactly what it was.

Still, he raised his head to the sky and watched as a new Sword of Damocles materialised in a spray of blue, the kind of excitement he rarely felt clawing up in his gut and putting a dangerous smile on his face. If he was lucky, the Blue King would be an interesting opponent to mess with, and he'd have something to do that wasn't just watching his Clan have fun.

When a figure appeared from one of the Scepter 4 transports, Mikoto immediately summoned his own sword and sent a wave of aura towards the new arrival. It wasn't intended to be a kill shot but he still quirked an eyebrow when blue aura dissolved his own, the figure not even breaking its stride towards him.

A second, more powerful wave of red aura was deflected up into the sky with seemingly little effort, and underneath his bored exterior Mikoto was feeling the stirrings of what might just have been anticipation. Forcing himself to stay casual, he shoved his hands into his pockets and waited, trying to get a good look at the new Blue King.

“Red King Suoh Mikoto,” the man said to him in a deliciously deep voice once he was close enough, “Stand down. Now.”

“Disrespecting your seniors, New King?” Mikoto said, boredom penetrating his every word even as he tried to see through the dark night and make out the man's face.

“This is your last warning,” the Blue King droned, sounding more like he was reading from a script than anything else. “Stand _down_.”

Mikoto just let out a single deep laugh, slouching his shoulders even more to show just how uninterested he was pretending to be. “Nah.”

In a single moment, he heard a sword being drawn as the Blue King rushed at him, sabre swinging in Mikoto's direction while engulfed in the King's blue aura. Mikoto waited until the last possible millisecond to pull his hands out of his pockets and strengthen his own aura, using one aura-engulfed arm to block the attack.

The Blue King pushed harder and Mikoto felt incredible pressure against his arm, still holding his own but not without considerable effort. Calling up a little more power, his aura flared and engulfed them both in light as Mikoto forced the sword back, switching their positions until the Blue King was the one on the defensive.

The increased light of their combined auras gave Mikoto a good look at his opponent's face as he shook dark hair out of his eyes, his glare practically lethal even as his sword arm trembled slightly under the force of Mikoto's power.

“Holy shit,” Mikoto snickered as he realised that he recognised those sharp features, a strong bolt of excitement running through his entire body. “If it isn't Munakata Reisi. Figures that you'd be leader of these nerds.”

They'd been friends, once. A decade or so earlier when they'd both been civilian kids suffering through boring classes, they'd been on surprisingly good terms for a weirdo dork and a bad-tempered layabout. Not exactly _close_ , but good enough, until they'd just sort of stopped having anything to do with each other.

It had probably been for the best, considering that Mikoto had just started to get a little concerned about his growing fascination with his quiet friend. Once they'd graduated and Mikoto had become the Red King, he'd put unwanted thoughts and unsettling dreams out of his head completely, assuming that they would never have a reason to cross paths again.

But here Munakata was, his own Sword of Damocles hanging in the sky right next to Mikoto's, their auras flicking together into a dangerous purple as the stalemate continued.

“If Scepter 4 are _nerds_ ,” Munakata said, only the slightest strain of effort in his voice, “Then that explains how you ended up running that gang of delinquents rather than the obviously superior Blue Clan. You're an idiot, I've met smarter sandwiches than yourself.”

“Harsh,” Mikoto said blankly, taking advantage of his familiarity with his power to shove Munakata back a few steps in a hard push of aura. Munakata's power increased in response, not quite as high as Mikoto's own, but certainly promising.

Deciding that this was a battle best served for another day, Mikoto called back his aura and let his Sword disappear from the sky, putting his hands back in his pockets before Munakata could launch another attack. The Blue King shot him a suspicious look but lowered his sabre, slowly sheathing it.

Putting two fingers to his mouth, Mikoto whistled loudly and watched as his clansmen scattered, abandoning their individual fights without a second thought and disappearing into the night. Taking one last long look at Munakata, the lines of his body perfect in the stuffy uniform of Scepter 4 and his face flushed with exertion, Mikoto's lips twitched and he waved casually in farewell.

“I'll be seeing you soon, Blue King.”

Turning away, Mikoto followed his clansmen's lead and wandered away into the night, somehow knowing that Munakata wouldn't follow him.

So his old friend was the new Blue King? Mikoto couldn't exactly say that he was disappointed with that particular turn of events. He was older than before, if not wiser, and he was just now realising that they still had unfinished business.

At least Munakata hadn't figured out that their little power struggle had made him hard.

There'd be plenty time enough for that sort of thing a little later on.


	12. Do or Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #44: "If you really loved me, there wouldn't be a choice."

For all the sneaking around that they'd done over the years, Munakata was having none of it when he shoved through the front door of HOMRA, the Red Clansmen inside immediately jumping to their feet and looking for a fight.

“Where's your King?” Munakata demanded of the curious-looking bartender, ignoring all of the lower-ranked members milling around.

“You're all business, Blue King,” Izumo replied. “No time for a drink?”

Glaring, Munakata just waited until Izumo raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright. Are you going to tell me why you need to see him so badly? I can't be letting just anyone in here.”

Inhaling deeply in an effort to control his frustration, Munakata pinched the bridge of his nose and narrowed his eyes. “He's going Damocles Down sometime in the near future. Is that good enough for you?”

Izumo opened his mouth, closed it again and then pulled off his sunglasses to rub at his eyes. When he spoke again, his calm tone was undermined by something that sounded an awfully lot like worry.

“Go upstairs. I'm sure you know the way.”

Izumo turned away after that, ignoring the questions being thrown his way by the Reds and straightening the bottles behind the bar. Munakata didn't particularly care about how he was going to explain a Damocles Down to HOMRA, if he even did at all; the rest of the group were none of his concern. He was there for Mikoto, and Mikoto only.

It was more for Anna's sake that Munakata bothered knocking on Mikoto's door, still not waiting for a response before he pushed it open. It was obvious that Mikoto had been sleeping, but all tiredness left his eyes as he looked at Munakata standing in the doorway, immediately sitting up and quietly telling Anna to go downstairs.

Predictably, the quiet girl didn't say anything but she looked at Mikoto, turned her unnerving stare to Munakata, and then nodded before slipping off the end of the bed and moving past Munakata to leave to room.

If Mikoto was surprised to see Munakata visiting him out of the blue in the middle of the afternoon, he didn't show it. Rather, he looked resigned to his fate, beckoning Munakata further into the room. “Close the door.”

Doing as requested, Munakata waited for Mikoto to say something, _anything_ else. When he stayed silent, Munakata sighed.

“You already know why I'm here.”

“Yup,” Mikoto said shortly, not looking particularly concerned about the fact that _he was going to die_. Munakata wanted to grab him by the front of the shirt and shake him until he gave some sign that he _cared_ , but that was just a little too unrefined.

Instead, he sat down on the end of the bed, trying to shed the uptight image of the Blue King so that he and Mikoto could just speak like people, like _lovers_. Mikoto wouldn't respond to authority, not the way that Munakata wanted him to.

“Suoh, your sword is crumbling faster than the previous Red King's did. Unless you stop pulling so much power, you're not going to see the year out.”

“I know,” Mikoto said, still sounding supremely unconcerned about the whole thing. The urge to shake him returned stronger than ever, and Munakata clenched his fists where they sat on top of his thighs.

“Don't you _care_?”

“Live by the sword...” Mikoto shrugged, not bothering to finish his sentence. The very corner of his lips twitched upwards, like he thought that he was just _so very clever_ , and something in Munakata finally snapped.

Shifting onto his knees, Munakata reached forward and yanked Mikoto towards him, soft cotton straining under the force of his grip.

“You. Are going. To die,” Munakata said, enunciating each word as clearly as he possibly could. “Is this not occurring to you? How can you be so calm about the fact that you and anyone unlucky enough to be near you at the time are going to _explode_? What about your Clan? They need a King.”

“They'll be fine. You're not really worried about them.”

Twisting his fist so that Mikoto's shirt tightened around his neck, Munakata stared right into Mikoto's bored eyes. “Give up your position, Suoh. Don't kill yourself for no reason.”

They stared at each other for a few silent moments before Mikoto lifted his hand, gripping tight around Munakata's wrist until his bones creaked and he felt like his skin was about to start burning. The threat was clear enough, and he reluctantly let go of Mikoto's shirt so that he could reclaim his own wrist.

“You can't force me to make that choice,” Mikoto said, not bothering to fix his shirt's askew neckline. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“If you really loved me,” Munakata blurted out, finally verbalising the feelings that they both knew were there but had never spoken about, “There wouldn't _be_ a choice. Don't leave me like this, Mikoto.”

A beat of silence, and then Mikoto started to laugh. It started off quietly but quickly grew loud enough that Munakata was sure someone downstairs would hear, the sound humourless and bitter and chilling Munakata to the bone.

And then, it stopped.

“I can't do it,” Mikoto said, shaking his head as his expression _finally_ showed the slightest hint of fear. “I just _can't_. I can't go back to nothing, living like a normal after all of this.”

“You _can_ -”

“Reisi,” Mikoto said with a heart-wrenching finality in his voice, “I can't. And I won't. It's the way that the Red Kings have always been, and you know it.”

“It doesn't have to be the same, Mikoto, we can fix this.” Munakata knew that there was no changing Mikoto's mind, but he was going to _try_. There was nothing else he could do.

“Nah,” Mikoto shot back, immediately returning to his overly-practised nonchalance. “It's over, Reisi. Gonna die one way or another, so it might as well be in a blaze of glory.”

Munakata thought he was going to be sick. Forcing himself to take a few deep breaths, he stood up and looked down at Mikoto, knowing that he was just wasting his breath. “I'm going to stop you, Mikoto. I'll put you in cuffs if I have to, but I'll stop you from wasting your life like this.”

Finally looking up at the Blue King, Mikoto just smirked. “Looking forward to it. Do your worst, Reisi.”

Munakata wanted to kiss him, unsure if it would be the last chance he would ever get, but instead he just turned and walked back to the door. As he opened it, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Mikoto watching him, expression full of some emotion that Munakata couldn't name but that felt like a knife to the heart anyway.

It was hard to force himself to leave the room but he somehow managed it, slowly closing the door behind him and letting his head hang for a moment. He'd have to pull himself together before he went back downstairs, but that could wait for a minute or two.

“I love you,” Munakata whispered to nothing in particular as he stared at his shaking hands, the reality of the situation hitting him at full force.

Suoh Mikoto was going to die.

There was nothing that Munakata could do to stop it.


	13. Stress Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #36: "Everything was fine, until you showed up."

Mikoto could tell that Munakata was frustrated from the moment that he shoved through the door to his office. His normally unconcerned facade was as intact as always, but there was something to the slight stiffness of his shoulders and the downwards tilt of his mouth that Mikoto could just _tell_ was pure frustration.

Oh, this was going to be _fun_.

“Yo. Hard day?” Casually flicking his hand in a wave, Mikoto kicked his feet up onto Munakata's desk, leaning back further in Munakata's own chair.

“Everything was fine, until _you_ showed up,” Munakata said tightly, sweeping into the room and pushing Mikoto's feet off the desk. “Why are you here?”

“You shouldn't lie,” Mikoto tutted mockingly, balancing the chair back on two legs and rocking ominously. “I'm just here to make sure ya don't work yourself to death.”

Sighing in annoyance, Munakata gestured towards the door. “Your concern is admirable, but you need to leave. I have a lot of work that needs completing.”

“No time for a quickie?” Slamming the front legs of the chair back to the ground, Mikoto obnoxiously palmed at his crotch, watching Munakata's eyes flick down before returning to his face.

“I'm busy,” Munakata replied, sounding less than reluctant. Mikoto just smirked, hand still on the bulge in his pants and his legs spread wide.

“Some of us have _actual_ work to do,” Munakata tried again, but his gaze dropped back down to Mikoto's hand and the Red King knew that it was time for the ace up his sleeve.

“Just hurry up and fuck me on your desk, Reisi.”

Munakata opened his mouth, paused, closed it again and then narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “You're asking _me_ to top _you_.”

“Why not?” Mikoto shrugged, acting as unaffected as possible despite knowing that Munakata wouldn't be able to resist the bait. They'd done it before, just not all that often, and nothing worked quite like appealing to Munakata's need for control. “Took a lotta effort to get in here without being busted, let me just lay back and enjoy it.”

“...You have _ten_ minutes,” Munakata finally said, stripping off his uniform coat and carefully draping it over one of his visitors' chairs.

“Easy,” Mikoto said confidently, undoing his belt and then standing up so that he could completely discard his pants. After grabbing a small bottle of lube and a condom from the pockets, his jacket followed suit and Mikoto perched his bare ass in the space his feet had earlier cleared on Munakata's desk.

Holding the contents of his hand out to the other man, Mikoto raised an eyebrow. “We doing this or nah?”

“You sound like an idiot,” Munakata sighed even as he undid his pants just enough to pull his cock out. As much as he'd rather not admit it, Mikoto's brazen touching and blunt proposition had woken his dick up, and he'd be near enough with just a few strokes. “Give me those.”

Snatching both out of the air when Mikoto threw them in his direction, Munakata let Mikoto watch as he jerked himself to full hardness, the Red King's cock already well and truly there as he let his legs splay open on the desk.

“Trying to run out the clock isn't very fair of you,” Mikoto muttered, even as his eyes tracked every movement while Munakata rolled the condom down his cock and slicked it up. “Lucky for you, I loosened myself up before I came over.”

Munakata froze as a bolt of pure desire ran down his spine, trying to stay composed as he quickly moved to stand between Mikoto's legs. Physically dragging the redhead into the right position, Munakata used the leftover lube to press a finger inside Mikoto, the slide effortless and making Mikoto sigh in lazy pleasure.

Still, it wasn't enough.

“Fuck me,” Mikoto demanded, Munakata momentarily considering denying him what he wanted before remembering that he really did only have ten minutes. Gripping Mikoto's hips to lift him _just_ right, Munakata slid his cock into Mikoto's willing body, biting his lip against any tell-tale sounds that might have slipped out.

“ _Good_ ,” Mikoto purred, and for all his talk of laziness he didn't waste any time in rocking his hips back and forth to try and encourage the Blue King.

Mikoto was hot and tight and everything that Munakata had ever wanted, so he didn't really _need_ any encouragement to start fucking Mikoto in earnest, skin slapping against skin as the Kings both revelled in the physical sensations. It didn't take long for Mikoto to reach a hand down and start jerking himself off, Munakata watching intently as his whole body _writhed_ against the wood of the desk.

Munakata was fairly certain he was going to leave bruises on Mikoto's hips even through his thin shirt, but he didn't particularly care and it seemed like the Red King didn't either. The man had a surprisingly masochistic streak buried somewhere underneath his usual demeanour, and Munakata certainly took pleasure in drawing it out, exerting his control whenever and wherever he could over his lazy, recalcitrant lover.

Case in point: even as Mikoto rolled his hips and frantically jerked himself off, his intense eyes locked onto Munakata's and he smirked. “You can do better than _this_.”

Knowing that he was being baited but not really caring, Munakata let go of one of Mikoto's hips to put a hand over his mouth before picking up his pace, pre-emptively quieting the moan that Mikoto tried to let out as each thrust got harder. He felt a tongue dart out to lick at his hand but he kept it there, gritting his own teeth as their frantic, _perfect_ fucking began to get the best of him.

Even without hearing anything, he could see the change in Mikoto's face as the Red King raced towards orgasm, his hips bucking harder between the hand on his dick and the cock that was impaling his ass. The muscles in his thighs were flexing with every hard and fast thrust that Munakata made, and when Mikoto's legs crushed around him while his eyes went wide Munakata knew that he was done.

Slamming his free hand down on the desk, Mikoto carelessly let his cock shoot up his chest, come splattering on his white shirt as he made muffled sounds under Munakata's hand. Once he was sure that Mikoto had finished, Munakata gingerly lifted his hand away and replaced it on Mikoto's hip, giving himself more room to move as he chased his own orgasm.

Even with a vaguely dazed Mikoto who was too lazy to participate any more, Munakata kept up his quick pace and soon felt his belly tightening, a low moan escaping from his throat even as he kept his lips closed against it.

Pulling Mikoto in close, Munakata let go of himself and came, pleasure and relief flooding his body as the day's tension melted away. He panted for a few moments before slowly lowering Mikoto to the table and pulling out, the Red King slowly coming back to life and sitting up with Munakata still standing between his legs.

“Thanks,” Mikoto laughed as he grabbed the front of Munakata's shirt, dragging him in for a quick kiss. “How long was that?”

“I...don't care,” Munakata said slowly, making Mikoto laugh again.

“Oh well, back to work,” Mikoto announced facetiously as he slipped off the desk, stepping around Munakata and lightly slapping his ass on his way to reclaim his pants and jacket. “I'll see you later.”

Watching as a now fully-clothed Mikoto disappeared out the window, presumably the same way he'd come in, Munakata shook his head and slipped off the condom. Hiding it at the bottom of his waste basket, he tucked himself away and let shaking legs lead him to his chair.

It was only then that he noticed the perfect hand print burnt into the expensive wood of his desk, Munakata's eyes widening before he glared venomously at the offending mark.

“You _asshole_ ,” he muttered, already well and truly on his way to planning his revenge. There was almost no doubt that the Red King had done it on purpose, and so he was going to make Mikoto _pay_.

They'd both enjoy it, though. That much was a given.


	14. Honestly I Got Nothin' For This One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #49: "It sounds like you're trying to convince yourself."

“This is a bad idea.”

“Yeah, probably,” Mikoto said, sounding supremely unconcerned as he looked to the side at where Munakata was sitting next to him on the bed. He wasn't exactly in the mood for a lecture about propriety, not when he was still flat on his back after Munakata had just fucked him into the mattress, but he figured that he could at least _pretend_ to agree to try and lessen the potential damage.

“I'm serious,” Munakata said sternly, gathering up the sheets to cover the worst of his nudity. “We can't be falling into bed every time that we fight, it's... _improper_.”

“Uh-huh,” Mikoto replied distractedly, looking at a line of come that was quickly drying on Munakata's chest. He lightly scratched at it with a nail and watched it flake away, Munakata shuddering under his touch.

A firm hand circled his wrist, pulling it away from that flawless skin and pressing it down against the mattress in an obvious instruction to _be good_. Obviously Mikoto wasn't going to take that, uh, lying down, so once Munakata had let him go his hand was immediately onto the Blue King's thigh, playing with the rumpled sheet draped over hard muscle.

Munakata tensed under his hand but didn't bother to move it away this time, so Mikoto took that as a win.

“This was the _last time_ ,” Munakata tried again, although it was thoroughly undermined by the way that he had started to relax under Mikoto's hand. “It won't happen again.”

“You said that last week.” Getting more adventurous, Mikoto ran his fingers up closer to Munakata's crotch, tickling over the sensitive skin of his inner thigh before pulling back again.

Munakata still didn't try to stop him, and Mikoto could have sworn that his legs opened the tiniest little bit more in response. “Yes, well, I _mean it_ this time.”

It wasn't the least bit credible.

“It sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than me,” Mikoto pointed out, his fingers going up to where the hem of the sheet was sitting on Munakata's hip.

“We're rival Kings. We _can't_.”

Mikoto hummed, pretending to consider what Munakata was saying. “If you want me to stop, just say the word and I will.”

He would have, too. Not that he thought he'd get very far without a fight if he ever tried doing something that Munakata didn't want.

The silence that followed was certainly telling, but Mikoto pulled his hand back to himself regardless and pushed himself upright. Shamelessly sitting up naked with his legs crossed, Mikoto propped his elbow onto his knee and put his face in his hand, turning so that he could look properly at Munakata.

“Do you _really_ want to stop, or is it just what you think you should do?”

“I...” Munakata faltered, taking a second to compose himself. “Does it matter?”

“Hell yeah, it matters,” Mikoto scoffed. “I'm hot, you're hot and when we fuck, it's hot. Why trash a good thing for no reason?”

“You wouldn't understand.”

Mikoto's immediate reaction was to arc up at the condescension Munakata was displaying, the obvious implication that he was too _dumb_ or _trashy_ to get what the Blue King was on about. But he fought down the urge, reining in his temper and reminding himself that this was Munakata's default reaction whenever he felt like he was getting in over his head.

“Look,” he finally responded, “No one has to know what we do. Knowing that, you're free to do whatever the fuck you want, so don't come back if you don't wanna. My bed's always got room for your ass, though.”

Munakata looked away, the room falling into silence as Mikoto watched Munakata watch the wall. Just as Mikoto was thinking of something to say that would break the stalemate, it was shattered by the sudden sound of Munakata's communicator ringing loudly.

Quickly scrambling for the device, Munakata stood up and held it to his ear. “Munakata here...mm-hmm...yes...yes...no...I can be on the scene in fifteen minutes. Hold the perimeter.”

Running a hand through his hair, Munakata glanced down at Mikoto and adjusted his glasses, not saying anything before starting to get dressed again. Deciding that it was a lost cause, Mikoto slumped back down in his bed, stretching out on his back and vaguely wondering if this was going to be the last glimpse he'd get at Munakata's naked body.

Deciding it wasn't worth worrying about, he straightened his neck and looked up at the ceiling, letting post-sex weariness sink into his bones. He wasn't going to let himself get broken up by something casual.

He _wasn't_.

Too lost in his own world, Mikoto jolted when fingers grabbed his chin to turn his face, soft lips pressing against his own in a kiss that felt maybe _too_ affectionate.

“I,” Munakata laughed helplessly, shaking his head as if in disbelief, “I'll see you next time.”

There was a look of promise and conviction in his face before he turned and left the room, and Mikoto smirked as the door closed again. He'd apparently gotten through to the almost offensively stubborn Blue King.

It was a fucking miracle.


	15. FIRST!!!!1!!1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #7: "I've never killed anyone before."

Mikoto was lazily lounging in his bed, idly watching Anna as she sat in the corner with her marbles, when the young girl peered into one of the red crystals and suddenly stood up in a flurry of ruffles. Sparing a glance at Mikoto, she nodded silently before leaving the room, not bothering to close the door behind her.

Vaguely wondering whether he should be worried about the somewhat uncharacteristic behaviour, Mikoto groaned and started to sit up so that he could go and close the door again. If Anna not closing doors was going to be the majority of her burgeoning teenage rebellion, then Mikoto was just glad that she probably wasn't going to do anything anywhere near as bad as what he'd done.

Dragging himself out of bed, Mikoto had just pushed the door closed when it suddenly stopped, pressure from the other side leaving it stuck half open. Mikoto frowned and let go, stepping back as the door slammed open perhaps a bit harder than whoever was on the other side had expected.

Mikoto casually shoved his hands in his pockets and raised an eyebrow, looking the Blue King up and down where the man stood on just the other side of the room's threshold.

“Munakata,” he drawled, “What a surprise.”

When the man barely even reacted, Mikoto knew that something was wrong. Usually if he saw Munakata during the day, it was so that the Blue King could yell at him for whatever HOMRA had apparently done wrong. It wasn't unusual to get a visit from Munakata at _night_ , but that was an entirely different proposition.

Stepping aside, Mikoto gestured Munakata into the room and then closed the door. Munakata was stationary in the middle of the room, posture perfect but unbelievably tense, and Mikoto just moved around him to go back to his bed. Stretching out on the far side, he waited to see what Munakata would do, watching as the man just...stood there.

The longer Mikoto watched, the more he could see that Munakata was paler than he usually was, and there was the faintest tremor to his hands. He wasn't sure what to say, or what to do; he'd never particularly been one for emotional bullshit. That was what he had Totsuka for, but he didn't exactly think that Munakata would take being sat down with someone else very well.

So he waited.

And waited.

Mikoto had begun to drift off, only half aware of what was going on around him, when Munakata let his coat slip from his shoulders and pool on the ground around his feet. Even when they were pulling clothes off each other as fast as they could, Mikoto had never seen Munakata treat his coat with such blatant disrespect, and his eyes widened slightly when Munakata took off his boots and let them fall onto the fabric.

Leaving everything else intact, Munakata moved to sit on the edge of Mikoto's bed, his back turned so that the Red King could no longer see his face. His shoulders were still rigid with tension, and Mikoto was suddenly wide awake as he waited to see if Munakata was going to speak.

“A Strain retrieval went wrong,” Munakata finally started, back ramrod straight. “She was endangering too wide of a radius for us to reconsider.”

Mikoto had a sinking feeling that he knew where Munakata was going to go, and suddenly the deathly paleness and shaking hands made sense. He still didn't know how he could possibly help, but it was flattering to know that Munakata had chosen to seek him out.

“I've never killed anyone before,” Munakata said, fingers clenching in Mikoto's sheets. Knowing that anything he could say would come out as overly flippant or bored, Mikoto stayed silent.

Munakata huffed a bitter laugh. “It was easy.”

The power of a King was something that Munakata was still getting used to, and Mikoto knew just how easy it was to lose control and go overboard. The Blue King's powers weren't as overtly destructive and dangerous as his own, but the increases in strength and speed alone were nothing to sniff at.

“I know,” Mikoto finally said, thinking of flames and heat and screaming. Munakata just hummed softly in reply, silence reigning once again.

As minutes passed, Mikoto watched as Munakata's shoulders slowly started to relax, his posture still straight but the tension slowly unwinding from his muscles. Soon enough, his hands were no longer shaking and when he finally turned to face Mikoto, his skin looked a lot less sickly.

“I should return to work,” Munakata announced in a steady voice, sounding like himself again as he stood up and knocked his boots off his coat. Gently brushing the fabric down, he frowned at the faint marks left behind, and Mikoto knew he was going to be okay- eventually.

“Oi,” Mikoto said once Munakata was fully dressed again, looking regal as ever and as if nothing had happened at all. “Come back tonight...if ya need.”

“We'll see,” Munakata replied, his non-committal tone ruined by the grateful expression on his face. “Goodbye, Mikoto.”

“Later, Reisi.”


	16. *Sad Trombone*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #26: "I didn't intend to kiss you."

“You can't _do_ this.” Tightening his grip on Mikoto's jacket, Munakata shook him a little, desperate to wipe the apathetic look off his face before he did something _truly_ stupid.

“Bit late for that,” Mikoto said, letting Munakata do as he would without bothering to resist. “We both know it's over.”

Mikoto hadn't known what to expect after being summoned to the Blue King's office for an official meeting, but he certainly hadn't been ready for Munakata to angrily demand that he try to stop his impending Damocles Down. He'd figured that Munakata wouldn't care at all whether he lived or died, as long as he didn't take half the city along with him.

But there was a truly terrifying amount of _worry_ in those violet eyes, and Mikoto didn't know what to do. He'd already come to terms with the fact that he was going to die. It was the curse of the Red Kings that their powers would get the better of them eventually, and they would leave nothing but destruction in their wake.

“I thought I had _time_ ,” Munakata muttered more to himself than to Mikoto, hands still clenched in the material of Mikoto's coat. There was something going on here that Mikoto didn't understand, so instead of forcing Munakata to let him go he just stood there and took it, waiting to see if the Blue King would eventually explain himself.

“Suoh,” Munakata said in a louder voice this time, “Relinquish your powers as King. It will save your life.”

“No.”

It was a simple statement, but behind it was every little bit of Mikoto's determination to not run away from his fate. Dying was better that giving everything up like a coward and having to explain to HOMRA why he wasn't their King any more. It had never been his style to flee, and he wasn't about to start now.

“Suoh, _please_.” If Mikoto hadn't known what a stuffy little prick Munakata was, he would have almost called that _begging_. It was something he'd never seen from the Blue King in all the years that they'd known each other, going back further than when either of them had been chosen by the Slate, and it was then that he realised that this was serious.

“Why do you care if I die?”

“I…” Munakata trailed off, his eyes darting to the side. “I just...”

Munakata made a noise of pure frustration and then tugged sharply on Mikoto's jacket, startling the Red King into jolting forward. When their lips met, the kiss was too hard and too dry, and Mikoto felt laughter bubbling up in his throat as he shoved Munakata backwards.

“No,” Mikoto said, shaking his head and swallowing down the rest of his bitter laughter. “No, you don't get to do this. Not now.”

At least Munakata had the wherewithal to look ashamed of himself, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and staring at the ground. When he finally looked back up at Mikoto his lips were pressed into a tight frown, brow furrowed in annoyance.

“I didn't intend to kiss you,” Munakata said quietly. “Not like this. It's been too many years for me to ruin things so quickly, but if you're determined to die, what other choice did I have?”

“Don't make this about you,” Mikoto snarled. “You can't be a dick about everything and then just expect me to, what, fall into your arms? Give up my powers and be your kept boy? It doesn't work like that, Munakata, _I_ don't work like that.”

Practically spitting venom, Mikoto wanted to hit Munakata in his stupid perfect face. He couldn't have done that _before_ the very real inevitability that Mikoto was going to die soon? It was too late to go back now, even when Munakata was dangling his unfulfilled teenage dreams right in front of his face.

Mikoto couldn't give everything away for a man who only started playing when the toy he wanted was being taken away.

“It's too late.” Shaking his head, Mikoto straightened his jacket and turned towards the door. “You can't stop this, Munakata. No one can.”

Opening the office door, Mikoto paused when Munakata suddenly called, “I'll try.”

Huffing a laugh, Mikoto shook his head again. “Good luck, Munakata.”

Shutting the door behind him, Mikoto brushed his hand over his lips and then punched his fist out, leaving a sizeable hole in the wall.

It was too late, and yet somehow, he didn't feel quite as ready to die as he had that morning.


	17. You'll Never Convince Me He's Really Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #18: "I'm alive...I can tell because of the pain."

Munakata nearly murdered eight people as he shoved his way through Scepter 4’s medical department, a sterile building that was half hospital and half prison. It was where they tended to detain injured Strains, but his objective today was nothing of the sort.

Shoving past his own clansmen as they tried to at least slow him down a little, Munakata finally arrived in front of his intended door, his full clearance as the Blue King quickly overriding the lock. There was nothing that anyone could do to stop him from seeing the man in that room, despite how long his own high-ranking clansmen had tried to keep their latest guest a secret.

Shoving the door open, Munakata let out a shaky breath as he looked down at Suoh Mikoto, who was picking idly at the IV in his wrist while glaring at it in disgust.

“Well if it isn't the Blue King,” Mikoto said when he looked up to see Munakata staring at him in a rare state of speechlessness. “Long time no see.”

“I _killed_ you,” Munakata finally managed to say, eyes drawn to the spot on Mikoto's covered chest where he'd shoved his sabre. 

“Yup,” Mikoto said casually, scratching at the same place on his chest. He winced when his fingers hit the weeks-old wound, his body healing at a far slower rate now that he couldn't just draw from his Sword. “And now I'm back.”

M unakata's legs felt weak but he forced himself to stay standing, not wanting Mikoto to see him fall. He had a million questions all at once, but the most important one was just, “How?”

“Well, you killed me,” Mikoto said, far too lightly for someone who had just said what he did. “Apparently my heart stopped for a good couple minutes, just long enough for the Slate to write me off. Hey, did you know that the Silver King's doing some weird fucking experiments up in his big, uh, floaty thing?”

“I...had my suspicions,” Munakata said slowly, his brain working to put together what had happened. “You were up in the Himmelreich?”

“It's called the Schattenreich now,” Mikoto pointed out obnoxiously, ignoring Munakata's glare. “I was in a coma for most of it so I don't know exactly, but apparently they got my heart restarted and whisked me off 'til they rebuilt. Apparently the Silver King wanted to see if I'd wake up with my powers or something, maybe if I'd go Strain. Weird guy, that one.”

“...Did you?” Munakata asked quietly, although he was fairly certain that he already knew the answer. He couldn't feel the gentle hum of power that the Kings could sense in each other, nor the rolling heat that had long accompanied Mikoto wherever he was. The shock of it all had masked the sensation at first, but the room felt too cold and Munakata shivered a little.

F or the first time, Mikoto looked legitimately upset, if only for a split second. The expression was quickly covered up by a closed mouth smile, although Munakata thought that his eyes were still missing their usual spark.

“Nah,” Mikoto said. “The Damocles Down stopped when my heart did- thanks for not letting us both blow up, by the way- and when I woke up, there was nothing left.”

“How do you feel?”

“Cold,” Mikoto said with a bitter laugh, “But calm. I'd forgotten what it was like to not have fire running through my veins, and at first I didn't really feel like I was really awake. But I'm alive...I can tell because of the pain.”

Prodding at his chest a little and wincing, Mikoto looked back up at Munakata and shrugged. “Or something lame like that.”

A surprised laugh escaped from Munakata,  quickly followed by another and another. Mikoto was watching him curiously, but his eyes widened a little when they dissolved into a few choked sobs.  Munakata tentatively reached forward, his fingers tangling in the front of Mikoto's basic Scepter 4 issue-shirt, before suddenly tugging the former Red King into a tight hug.

“I thought I'd lost you,” Munakata forced out, his other hand buried in Mikoto's hair. “You made me _kill you_.”

“Ow,” Mikoto said blankly, not _really_ minding that  his chest was aching. From this close, he felt like he could sense the power throbbing under Munakata's skin, and it was soothingly familiar. Not to mention, he and Munakata had spent years dancing around whatever was there between them, but this was the first time that either of them had ever _done_ anything  about it.

Just as quickly as it had happened, though, Munakata was standing back up straight again, anxiously fixing his coat and hair.  Mikoto gingerly lowered himself back to the crappy bed,  stretching his legs out in front of him. 

“What will you do now?” Munakata asked, still fiddling with some imagined imperfection on his uniform. 

Mikoto sighed. “Gonna have to visit HOMRA. There a new Red King yet?”

“No.”

“Hm,” Mikoto replied. “Plus there's a couple things I couldn't do as Red King that I might have to catch up on.”

“Oh?” Raising an eyebrow, Munakata waited for Mikoto to keep going.

“Yeah,” Mikoto said, the spark returning to his eyes as he looked up at Munakata. “You doing anything after this?”


	18. I Forgot I'd Already Written Mikoto Blowing Munakata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #23: "So much for not getting involved."

“So much for not getting involved,” Mikoto scoffed, making Munakata pause in undoing his pants. Looking up at Mikoto, the Blue King went so far as to completely fasten them again, putting his hands on his hips and staring at Mikoto with pure disdain.

“I can just leave, if you would prefer.”

“Don't be like that,” Mikoto sighed with a roll of his eyes, stepping forward and prying Munakata’s hands off his hips so that he could replace them with his own. “I'm just saying, this is a long way from when you said, what was it? I'll never get involved with Red scum like you?”

Munakata stared blankly at him for a few more moments, but made no move to dislodge Mikoto’s hands. “You are really trying to get me to change my mind, aren't you.”

“Doesn't seem to be working,” Mikoto said smugly with a very obvious look down at the bulge in Munakata’s uniform trousers.

“Be quiet,” was the petulant response, but there was no heat behind it and Munakata didn't try to stop Mikoto when he undid those well-tailored pants again. “If you're just going to run your mouth, you can do something more useful with it.”

Mikoto laughed, with one hand still on Munakata’s fly. “Did you learn that from a porno? Wouldn't have thought you were the type, Reisi.”

“Must you be so crude?” Munakata asked in exasperation, despite knowing the obvious answer. He'd known the Red King for long enough to expect nothing else, and yet here he was, shirtless and hard with big, calloused hands pulling his pants down with only a fraction of the respect the expensive garment deserved.

He doubted that Mikoto even knew where to find a decent dry cleaner, though.

Munakata stepped out of his pants as Mikoto turned his attention to his own, his lack of underwear not all that surprising to Munakata. His cock looked almost painfully hard, and Munakata felt his own twitch in his underwear in response. Despite Munakata's posturing, the Red King was one of the most gorgeous men he'd ever met, as long as he knew when to shut his mouth.

As it was, Mikoto looked like he was about to make another stupid comment, and so Munakata moved forward, taking Mikoto's face between his hands and kissing him to cut off his words. Mikoto responded by shoving his hands down the back of Munakata's underwear, fingers digging into the meat of his ass as he dragged the Blue King closer.

Their dicks rubbed together through the material of Munakata's underwear as their hips ground into each other, Mikoto eventually pulling back and licking playfully at Munakata's lips.

“I'm going to suck your cock,” Mikoto declared, squeezing a little harder at Munakata's ass. Munakata had to bite back a groan, but he thrust his hips into Mikoto's again, not caring about the fact that he was being particularly shameless.

Mikoto wasn't going to go around telling everyone, and even if he did, _no one would believe him_.

In any case, Munakata was more than happy to see Mikoto dropping to his knees, pulling down Munakata's underwear as he ran his hands right down the backs of the Blue King's legs.

Too focused on sensation as Mikoto's hot mouth wrapped around his cock, Munakata didn't notice when Mikoto's hands left him. He _definitely_ noticed when they came back, suspiciously slick and sliding between his legs to rub up against his hole.

Pressing inside Munakata's hole, Mikoto's middle finger went straight for his prostate, quickly finding it and making Munakata buck his hips. Mikoto was teasing him, though, rubbing up against his prostate while only letting the head of Munakata's cock sit in his mouth. It would have been unsatisfying, but a second finger quickly joined the first and Munakata just didn't care.

The gentle stretch combined with the tongue flicking over the head of his dick was nice, but the relentless pressure on his prostate had Munakata shaking where he stood. Even when on his knees, Munakata felt like Mikoto had too much power over him, his legs feeling uncomfortably weak as heat built up in his gut.

So when Mikoto gave him a particularly hard suck, Munakata grabbed a handful of his hair and none-too-gently pulled him back, jerking his own cock in his free hand once it slipped out of Mikoto's mouth.

It was obvious from the look on Mikoto's face that he knew what was about to happen but he didn't even try to move, his mouth falling open just a little when Munakata groaned and shot thick ropes of come across his face.

At least he _mostly_ tried to stop it from getting in Mikoto's eyes, even if he deserved it.

Mikoto looked up with blazing eyes when Munakata let his hair go, licking come from his lips and squeezing at his own cock before slowly rising back to his feet.

“You _dirty bitch_ ,” Mikoto said huskily, wrapping an arm around Munakata's waist and pulling him in until their bodies collided. “You're gonna pay for that.”

Munakata let himself smirk faintly as he lifted a hand, thumb wiping come from one of Mikoto's cheekbones.

“Oh, really?”


	19. Wherefore Art Thou Ro-Mikoto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #6: "Could you be any louder?"

“Oi!” Mikoto yelled gruffly, his voice breaking through the previously tranquil night. “Blue King! Get your ass down here!”

Another set of guards came rushing in from one side, but Mikoto barely even had to try to keep them away with his aura. He was _pissed_ , and no amount of Clansmen were going to be able to take him down.

“Munakata!” He roared again, the air around him heating dangerously. The guards still trying to beat his aura were forced to retreat even further, shielding themselves from the growing heat. They really shouldn't have bothered; even a high-ranking Clansman would find himself struggling to find a way to avoid Mikoto's fire.

When there was still no movement from the window above him, Mikoto scowled and let flames lick at his fingers. “If you don't come down here, I'm going to start setting things on fire.”

Another few moments of silence passed, but just as Mikoto was about to stomp over to Scepter 4’s precious training ground and set the whole thing ablaze, Munakata’s pompous face appeared when the window was wrenched open.

“Could you be any louder?” Munakata said, sighing as if he'd never been more bored in his life. “If you'd kindly stop trying to murder my subordinates, it would be greatly appreciated.”

“Can't let your lackeys do all your dirty work,” Mikoto snapped, sending out another burst of heat and pushing the guards back further. He hated that Munakata knew just how to bring out the worst in him, shattering his apathy just by _existing_ , but there was nothing he could do to help it.

Munakata had offered him the kind of equal companionship that only another King could provide, only to then take it away without a word. Mikoto was going to get answers, and then he would go back to blankly ignoring the Blue King.

He just wanted to know _why_.

“I don't have _lackeys_ , I have subordinates,” Munakata said blandly. Still, he gestured for the guards to leave them alone, and Mikoto cautiously drew his aura closer in response.

“Well?” Munakata asked after a few moments, picking idly at a fingernail.

“You've been ignoring me,” Mikoto called, trying to sound more taunting and less pathetic. “Was I too hot for you?”

Munakata quirked an eyebrow, folding his forearms on the window sill and leaning forward onto them. “How long did it take you to come up with that one?”

“Ha, ha,” Mikoto drawled sarcastically. “Just didn't think you were the type to run away like a wimp.”

“It was…” Munakata trailed off, apparently just remembering where they were. Lowering his voice a little, he hissed just loud enough for Mikoto to hear, “It was nothing serious, and you know it.”

“Please,” Mikoto scoffed, not bothering to quiet down, “We both know that you can't do anything that isn't serious.”

“By all means, keep telling yourself that,” Munakata said. “Just do it somewhere that isn't here.”

Mikoto laughed, a bitter, rough sound that didn't come close to being humorous. “I'll be here until you admit that you want my cock again.”

Immediately looking furious, Munakata leaned further out the window and opened his mouth, only to be cut off by a voice yelling from the next building across.

“Some of us are trying to sleep, so shut up and get your dick wet somewhere else!”

Mikoto’s lips twitched upwards as he recognised that voice, surely belonging to one of the only people he'd ever met who was stupid enough to get between two angry Kings.

“Stay outta this, Fushimi!” Mikoto yelled back, looking up to see a familiar face in a high window of the next building.

“Fuck off, Suoh!” Fushimi yelled back as he slammed his window, giving Mikoto a glimpse of the kid who made a better Red than Blue. But he'd chosen his side, and Mikoto didn't want Clansmen who weren't in it with their whole hearts.

The aura handshake was a thing for a reason, after all.

“I can do this all night,” Mikoto warned as he turned his attention back to Munakata. The Blue King looked sick and tired of the whole thing, and Mikoto couldn't help but be smug about breaking that bored facade.

“What do you want?” Munakata finally asked, sounding like every word was hurting him. It was honestly more than Mikoto had been expecting to get without at least frying a couple of things, and he quickly reconsidered what he was going to say to Munakata.

“Go on a date with me, you stuck-up prick,” Mikoto yelled louder than was strictly necessary, smirking a little when Munakata opened and closed his mouth, obviously speechless.

“Do you really think that's going to work?” Munakata finally said, displacing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I dunno, is it?” Mikoto shot back. The silence stretched between them until Munakata finally sighed, putting his glasses back on and leaning as far out the window as he could.

“If you leave right now,” Munakata said, obviously taking great pains to be as quiet as possible, “I'll get a drink at your ugly bar.”

“Done,” Mikoto said instantly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “But if you don't show, I'll burn this joint to the ground.”

“That won't be necessary. Good _bye_ , Suoh.”

Pulling himself back, Munakata shut his window with finality, leaving Mikoto standing there alone. As the Red King looked up at the closed window, he let himself smile faintly.

It was obscenely hard to get Munakata to do anything he didn't want to, so Mikoto was putting this down as a victory.

And speaking of obscenely hard, he wondered how quickly he could get back to the privacy of his rooms above HOMRA...


	20. TBH I Kinda Want To Beat The Shit Out Of Mikoto Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #3: "I don't want your pity, I want your absence."

Mikoto stifled a groan as he slumped against the filthy wall of the alley, spitting out a mouthful of blood as he watched his attackers disappear around the corner. He was glad that they'd fallen for his bluff and limped off together, because he was in no state to be getting away on his own.

Four against one wasn't exactly a fair fight, and he'd broken more than one of their bones while giving even better than he got, but he wasn't supernatural. He still bled and broke and wore out.

Waiting a few more moments to make sure that they weren't going to change their minds and come back for seconds, Mikoto dragged himself upright and limped back towards the opposite end of the alley, leaning heavily against the wall with every step. He was fairly certain that he'd dislocated his shoulder, and there was too much blood in his mouth for everything to be intact in there.

He was almost back to the street when he heard a quiet gasp. Looking up with angry eyes in the hope of scaring away whoever it was, Mikoto scowled even more severely when he saw the perfectly uniformed Munakata Reisi standing at the mouth of the alleyway. The prick of a student council president was always getting on his back about _something_ , and Mikoto just wasn't in the right state to be dealing with that.

“Did someone finally give you what you deserve?” Munakata said, his voice telling just how much he was enjoying Mikoto’s bloody and beaten state.

The drying blood on Mikoto’s face pulled at his skin as he snarled, spitting a bloody wad at Munakata’s feet. The other man didn't even react, which somehow pissed Mikoto off more than being jumped had.

“There were four of them, and I still won,” Mikoto said, pushing away from the wall and forcing himself to stand upright. “This ain't your business, so you should run along.”

Munakata raised his eyebrows, standing tall and elegant next to Mikoto’s bloodied hunch. If Mikoto hadn't been struggling to merely stand, he would have considered bloodying Munakata up a little as well, but his adrenaline was quickly ebbing and weariness was settling heavy in his bones.

“Where are your friends? Can they get you home?”

“ _No,”_ Mikoto snapped, taking an unsteady step toward Munakata. “Don't get Totsuka involved in this.”

“How unlike you to show another human some concern,” Munakata said mockingly. He easily dodged when Mikoto swiped for him with his good arm, the redhead wobbling dangerously as he struggled to stay upright.

“Izumo can take care of himself, but I won't let anyone fuck with Totsuka.”

“Noble,” Munakata said, expression serious, “But ultimately futile. They know you're too strong for them, so they're going to attack the weakest link next.”

“That's my problem, not yours,” Mikoto said harshly, lashing out to avoid thinking about how very true that was. “So why don't you fuck off back to your perfect little life and let me deal with my own shit.”

Munakata seemed more amused than anything as he looked Mikoto up and down. “Don't be late for school tomorrow.”

Waving casually, Munakata turned and walked away, leaving Mikoto to slump back against the building as he watched Munakata’s back. Now that he was alone, he could see all the passers-by taking a wide path around him and staring at the blood drying onto his white shirt. A venomous glare had them hurrying along, and Mikoto began to take laborious steps in the direction of his home.

He'd barely managed to take five slow steps when someone suddenly grabbed him, wrapping a careful arm around his waist and draping his good arm over broad shoulders. Mikoto’s reactions were understandably dulled so he didn't get a chance to throw them off before he could see who was bothering him.

He almost threw them anyway when he saw that it was Munakata who was forcing him upright, his neat uniform jacket missing and Mikoto leaving ugly stains on his pale uniform shirt.

“What the fuck do you think-”

“Oh, be quiet and walk,” Munakata chastised, purposefully jostling him a little. “Look at you, you can barely move on your own.”

“I don't want your _pity,”_ Mikoto snarled, clenching his teeth around another noise of pain, “I want your absence.”

“You can never just be quiet and accept help, can you?” Munakata questioned, still basically dragging Mikoto down the street. “Left or right here?”

“Not from _you,”_ Mikoto spat, making Munakata laugh.

“If you say so, tough guy. Left or right?”

Mikoto was very strongly considering rag dolling to the ground until Munakata left him alone, but every step felt like something he just couldn't do on his own. Now that the rush had worn off, he was fairly certain that he had more injuries than he'd originally thought.

“...Left,” he said petulantly, glad when Munakata just nodded and steered them in the correct direction.

The rest of the walk passed in an almost tolerable silence, broken only by Mikoto’s directions; he was fairly certain that Munakata scraped him against buildings on purpose more than once, but he refused to react and give the prick any satisfaction.

When they reached Mikoto’s house, they were suddenly beset by Totsuka and Izumo, the former running towards them with the latter following slowly behind.

“What happened?” Totsuka asked with wide eyes, reaching towards Mikoto before stopping just short.

“Nothing,” Mikoto grunted as he shook Munakata off, only wobbling a little before Izumo caught up and supported him.

“But-”

“ _Nothing_ ,” Mikoto reiterated seriously, glancing at an impassive Munakata.

“Suoh,” Munakata said before Izumo could tow Mikoto away, making all three freeze.

“I'll have your absence excused tomorrow- but _only_ yours, and just this once.”

Mikoto raised an eyebrow, “Ain't you supposed to be all about following the rules all the time?”

As he turned away, Munakata gave the faintest hint of a smirk, making something deep inside Mikoto’s chest start to ache almost as much as the rest of his body already did.

“Now, where would be the fun in that?”


	21. Emotionally Compromised Assholes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #47: "I can think of a million places I'd rather be right now"

Mikoto raised an eyebrow when Munakata slumped down against his chest, Mikoto's quickly softening cock still in his ass and his come drying tacky between them. Munakata was usually up and off him practically before Mikoto had finished coming, and Mikoto didn't think that Munakata had ever stayed still for this long afterwards.

_And it had only been about thirty seconds_.

“Oi,” Mikoto started, pushing his hands under Munakata's ass so that he could lift the man off his overly sensitive dick. He slipped out easily enough and then lowered Munakata again, the other man making no indication that he even realised he'd been moved. “What's your issue?”

Munakata finally moved, but it was only so that he could sit up straighter, his head dropped so that Mikoto couldn't see his face through his hair.

“I hate you,” Munakata finally said, balling a fist and lightly hitting it against Mikoto's bare shoulder. “I hate you _so much_ , and I can think of a million places I'd rather be right now.”

“You're so kind,” Mikoto said sarcastically, shifting a little underneath Munakata. He had a sinking suspicion that things were about to get deeper than he was comfortable with, and he wasn't sure that he wanted to deal with that. Usually he just rolled over and went to sleep after Munakata ran away, and he could feel exhaustion settling in.

Sex with another King was unlike anything else, and he just wasn't used to that kind of exertion without being able to rest afterwards.

“Be quiet,” Munakata muttered, but there was nothing behind it. He sounded as tired as Mikoto felt. “Why do I keep coming back?”

Pushing his hair back from his face, Munakata stared at Mikoto for a moment before unmounting him, settling on the mattress beside him. Mikoto just watched, tired eyes still tracking every single movement of Munakata's naked body.

“Why can't I stop thinking about you when you're not there?”

Mikoto's eyebrows rose but he stayed silent, wondering whether Munakata would say anything else. He wasn't sure what had brought on the sudden confession, but he needed to hear more before he could make a decision about it.

He didn't know whether he wanted something more with Munakata, but he didn't think he could give the man up completely. It was...complicated.

That was why, when Munakata shook his head in frustration and went to stand up, Mikoto reached out without thinking and hooked an arm around his waist to drag him back.

“Let me go,” Munakata hissed, too composed to struggle. His long fingers squeezed tight around Mikoto's arm, though, making the other man wince a little.

“You don't say that and leave,” Mikoto grumbled, too focused on Munakata to be bothered by the dirty condom that was still on his dick and the come that was drying on his chest. “Explain.”

“It was nothing,” Munakata said, deadly serious as his fingers tightened hard enough to leave serious bruises. “You misheard.”

“You're such an _asshole_.” Sighing in irritation, Mikoto dragged Munakata until their bodies were pressed together, Munakata uncomfortable and stiff against him. “Stay and let me think about this.”

“I don't want to-”

“Yes, you do,” Mikoto grunted, only loosening his arm when Munakata released his death grip. When Munakata didn't immediately bolt, Mikoto let go for long enough to pull off the condom and tie it up, dropping it on the floor beside the bed. He'd deal with it later.

Munakata was still on his side with his back turned to Mikoto, and the Red King hooked his arm back around Munakata's waist.

“You're an asshole,” Mikoto repeated. “You're stuck up and annoying, and I could get laid _so much easier_ if I wasn't dealing with you. But you're here, my boys _know_ you're here, and no one gives a shit.”

“What's your point?” Munakata asked, but his voice was resigned like he already knew the answer and didn't care to fight it.

“We're pretty much already dating.”

Munakata was quiet but he didn't flip out like Mikoto had been expecting. “...We're not.”

“Might as well be. Run away like you usually do, won't make it wrong.” Letting go of Munakata, Mikoto rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. He expected to feel the mattress move as Munakata left, but when it didn't happen he cracked an eye open, watching the other man's back. Munakata's shoulders were stiff with tension, and they were both silent until Munakata rolled onto his back.

Side by side, they both looked up at the ceiling, each acutely aware of the other.

“We fucked up,” Mikoto eventually said, rolling onto his side to face Munakata. “Fucked up bad.”

“For the first time in your life, you might actually be right.”

“Stay.” It wasn't just a request for the night, and they both knew it. There was a reason why Mikoto had been avoiding thinking about what he and Munakata had, but in a matter of minutes everything had changed.

“I hate you _,_ ” Munakata said again in a soft voice, and it sounded like the opposite.


	22. If You Can't Handle The Heat...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request: creative/inappropriate/downright pornographic use of aura

Although he might have _joked_ about it, considering the amount of times that Munakata had jumped into battle with him for basically no reason, Mikoto hadn’t expected to be given undeniable proof of what he’d always kind of suspected.

Munakata Reisi was a goddamn masochist.

Mikoto had been forced to learn to keep his aura contained whenever he had sex, considering that a simple loss of control could land someone in hospital or an early grave; but he could only do so much when Munakata was riding him, eyes wild as he demanded that Mikoto increase the force and heat of his aura.

Mikoto had long since passed the threshold for what a normal human could handle before their skin would start to blister from his fire, but Munakata’s skin was as smooth and perfect as ever, and his dick was drooling precome with every burning pass of Mikoto’s hands over his torso.

“ _More_ ,” Munakata forced out from between gritted teeth and his own aura flared in response to Mikoto’s increased heat, trying to keep its master safe from harm before Munakata tossed his head back with pleasure and the blue glow dissipated. Despite the intense heat, his skin was only just beginning to redden, Mikoto’s fingers leaving trails whenever they went.

“Touch me,” Munakata demanded, and this time it was Mikoto’s ego that flared up in response to being ordered around.

“I’m already touching you,” he replied in a dry voice, running his hands down Munakata’s side to grab his hips, holding him in place so that Mikoto could thrust up into him a few times. Munakata’s aura pulsed again, just a little, and Mikoto felt a smug satisfaction at having riled his stoic rival.

Making a sound of disgust, Munakata’s slim fingers closed around Mikoto’s wrist in what would have been a bruising grip to a normal person, forcibly prying his hand from Munakata’s hip and shoving it down until his fingers- and his aura- brushed against Munakata’s cock.

The result was instantaneous.

The sound that Munakata made as burning heat touched his dick was unlike anything else Mikoto had ever heard from him, although it was quickly upstaged by his loud, shuddering moan when Mikoto took him properly in hand. The sound was intoxicating, and Mikoto thrust up into Munakata as the Blue King writhed on the Red King’s dick.

“ _Suoh_ ,” Munakata said in a wrecked voice, using his last name as always despite the fact that Mikoto was indulging his darkly masochistic fantasy, “ _Hotter_.”

It wasn’t a good idea. Mikoto’s control was already hanging by a thread, his orgasm building up to the point where he no longer thought he could hold back.

But he did it anyway.

Munakata _screamed_ as he came, his come quickly drying from the heat where it had splattered up Mikoto’s torso. Mikoto had never heard Munakata sound so _wrecked_ , and his aura flared erratically as his control finally snapped.  

It was only Munakata’s aura coming up in defence that kept the room from being incinerated, although it was obviously not a conscious reaction judging from the way that Munakata was still idly rolling his hips on Mikoto’s cock.

“Fuck,” Mikoto panted as the shock of Blue Aura slamming into his own left him coming hard, and he ended up lying bonelessly across the mattress as Munakata pulled off him and sat back on his thighs, their auras slowly dying down. There were sore-looking red marks all over Munakata’s torso and cock, but none of the horrific burns that Mikoto would have given anyone other than a King.

Munakata idly traced a finger across one on his chest before he realised that Mikoto was watching him, and he cleared his throat as he climbed off the bed.

“Right. Well…” Munakata started before giving up, for once not knowing what to say. Not altogether surprised, Mikoto just gave him a lazy wave goodbye, letting the tiniest hint of his aura light up his fingers as he did. Munakata’s eyes were locked on his burning hand and he swallowed hard, before he visibly straightened his spine and went about dressing himself.

He didn’t say anything as he left, not even looking back at where Mikoto was still lounging naked and sated on his bed, but Mikoto could already tell that this wasn’t the end.

Munakata would be back, and Mikoto would be waiting.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [my tumblr](http://socialdegenerate.tumblr.com)


End file.
